


Sacrifice

by lamardeuse



Series: Getting To Know You [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series to accompany Season Two of SGA. Part Three: Runner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: rating refers to overall series rating. Individual parts may carry a lower rating.

A week after returning to Atlantis, John had a dream in which he found Ford.   And since when he dreamed he practically never got what he wanted, it came as no surprise that in the dream Ford had turned into a Wraith, and sucked the life out of Elizabeth, Rodney and Teyla one after another while he watched.

After each was too far gone for him to save them, he shot them through the heart, cleanly, efficiently.

Stumbling into the shower stiff-legged and clammy with sweat, he wished that his damned subconscious could learn a little symbolism.   That way he could wake up refreshed, think,  _Huh.   Purple __butterflies,_ halfway through the day, and borrow one of Heightmeyer's books to decipher the deeper meaning.   _If_ he wanted.

_C'mon,_  he said as the stinging water did its best to blast him clean,  _is that too much to ask?_

He wasn't surprised when his subconscious took the Fifth on that one.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
When he ran into Rodney later on in the hall, he realized he'd barely seen him since they'd gotten back.   He took a moment to think about whose fault that might be, then decided it was Atlantis'.   In the two months they'd been gone, the ZPM had allowed Zelenka and the science team to discover ten million and one new things about the city, and Rodney insisted on being brought up to speed on most of them.   John was pretty sure Rodney was miffed they hadn't waited for him.

"Rodney," he said, then "McKay!" because Rodney was so immersed in the printout he clutched in his hands he was oblivious to everything else.    
Rodney 's head snapped up at the shout, a pissy look already prepared.   It softened marginally when he saw John, but not enough to make any real difference.    "Yes, M - Colonel," he said.    "What can I do for you?"

John opened his mouth to say_ I can think of about a hundred things_, but thought better of it when a Marine walked past them.    "Just being social," he drawled instead.    "Haven't seen much of you lately."

Rodney tipped his chin up, and John wondered if that was an acknowledgment of the double entendre or simply his usual distancing technique.    "Yes, well, it's been a busy time, hasn't it?" he said aloud, and before John could figure out what the hell that meant, he added,  "For both of us."

"Yeah," John admitted, suddenly feeling weary and more than a little guilty for forgetting about Ford for all of two minutes.

This time Rodney's expression did soften.    "I take it you haven't heard anything."

John shook his head.    "Not even a rumour.   I've got three teams out, all paired with Athosians."

Rodney snorted.    "I imagine Colonel Caldwell has had something to say about that."

"I don't give a fuck what he says," John heard himself snap, then sighed.    "Sorry, I didn't mean - "

"No, no, I understand," Rodney said hastily, shifting from foot to foot.

"Well," John said, because _that _body language he understood,  "see you later."

"It's only that I'm late for the meeting - "   Rodney trailed off and eyed him.    "Wait a minute.   Aren't you coming?"

John frowned.   "To your meeting?   Why?"

"You mean Samura didn't e-mail you?   Oh, for God's - everyone is always telling me I _don't _have to do everything myself, but clearly I do because I am surrounded by _morons_ \- "

"Rodney," John said as sternly as he could considering there was a smile fighting to get out.

"It's a briefing about the new military equipment that's been found.   At least they think it's military, perhaps weaponry, but more personal as opposed to city defense."   His gaze slid away from John for a moment.    "I know this is short notice, but do you think you could - "   He gestured down the hall.

John thought about it.   Another frustrating day of waiting for incoming reports - he'd taken himself off mission rotation to supervise the jumper refits - or a day spent playing with cool Ancient maybe-weaponry.

"Wait a minute," John said slowly, guilt gaining the upper hand for a moment.    "What do you mean they _think _it 's military?"

Rodney pursed his lips.    "They were afraid to try turning anything on."

John let the smile win, and it felt like the first real one he'd had in months.   Not caring who was watching, he put a companionable arm around Rodney's shoulders and said,  "Don't worry, Rodney.   If there's one thing I can do, it's turn stuff on."

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
"Oh - _Christ_ \- "

He felt Rodney's forehead press into his shoulder.    "Shhhh, Caldwell's right down the hall."

"Then hurry up and _fuck _me already," John complained, lowering his voice all the same.   He didn't really give a damn at this point if Caldwell and every Marine on Atlantis were lined up beside his bed, though he had cared while they were on the _Daedalus_, which was why he was so eager for it now.  

"I'm trying," Rodney whined back, and it made absolutely no sense that Rodney's whine should get him even hotter.    "Just - hold still for a second."

"You want a labeled diagr - _ahh!_"   Oh, that was it, that was the spot.   Hallelujah.  

Rodney twisted his fingers, and John could practically hear him grinning.   Smug bastard.   Summoning all of his willpower, John pushed himself up and away, dislodging Rodney's fingers.

"What are you - " Rodney began, but by now John was already lying on his back and hoisting his legs up.    "Oh," Rodney breathed, the word almost an absence of sound.    "Oh, oh my."

John hesitated; they hadn't done it like this before.   He couldn't even remember the last guy he'd fucked face to face.    "It's fine if you don't - "

Moving swiftly, Rodney dove down and captured John's mouth in a deep, hard kiss.    "No, no, no, it's perfect, you're - "   Rodney's mouth worked soundlessly, and then he kissed him again, and then he was guiding John's legs onto his shoulders and John shut his eyes and did his damnedest to forget everything but this for a little while.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
After the mission where they found Dex and lost Ford, John dreamed that he was on the Wraith ship where Ford had been taken.   He was standing in a large room, empty of everything but the two of them.   At first he thought he was there on a rescue mission, but when he held out his hands so that he could see them they were huge, grey, claw-like.

When he pressed his palm to Ford's chest, they both screamed.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
 "Colonel.   Colonel?   _John_."

John looked up from the datapad sitting beside his breakfast tray and saw Rodney staring down at him.    "Oh.   Hi."

 "Are you all right?"

John didn't answer.   After a few moments, Rodney blinked and looked away.  

 "I wish I hadn 't been the one to find him," Rodney murmured, eyes on the glass doors leading to the balcony.    "I didn't know what to say to him."

 "You tried," John said, tamping down the feeling of resentment.   He didn't have the energy to reassure anyone right now, least of all Rodney.    "That's all any of us could do."

Rodney glanced at John, then looked away again.  "I don't - "   He took a deep breath.    "I'll never be able to choose his life over mine."

John frowned.   "Nobody's asking you to."

This time Rodney's gaze met his.   "You would die for him.   He would - would have done - the same for you.   Teyla, too."   He sat down on the opposite side of the table, hands knotting and loosening compulsively in front of him as if in prayer to some strange god.

"Rodney," John said slowly,  "you've risked your life to save others before."

Rodney shook his head.   "Ultimately, that was self-interest; if I didn't do it, I was eventually going to die, too.   I'm talking about one for one, a life for a life.   If saving Ford meant sacrificing yourself, you'd do it."   His palms spread over the tabletop.   "I can't."

"And what's the purpose of this discussion, exactly?" John said, anger and frustration finally getting the better of him.   "To prove that once again it's all about you?"

Rodney stared at him, eyes wide with hurt.   "I'm trying to tell you I don't belong on those kinds of missions.   I'm not - I can't _be _what you - I mean, what Ford needs."

John sighed.   "Fine.   That's fine.   Although I can't think what the hell difference it makes now that the Wraith have got him."

Rodney had the good grace to look stricken.   "Yes.   Well," he said, rising abruptly.   John stared down at his now-cold eggs, resisting the adolescent urge to pick up the tray and fling it at the wall.

"If it makes any difference, I - I think I would.   For you."

John's head snapped up.

Rodney's face was, for once, completely unreadable.   "But I can't be sure," he added.   "I don't _know_."

John chose his words carefully, realizing that somehow, through a completely circuitous route, they had achieved critical mass right here in the middle of the fucking cafeteria.   In a twisted way, it made perfect sense.   "It's not something you can ever be sure of until it happens, Rodney," John said, as gently as he could manage, in a last attempt to prevent the explosion.   "And that's okay."

Rodney shook his head.   "No, it's not.   You deserve - "   He trailed off, darting a glance at the next table, where a group of people chatted amongst themselves, totally oblivious to what was happening a mere fifteen feet away.   "That is, I mean, maybe - "

"I get it," John said flatly, ending the agony for both of them.   He tried to focus on the pad, but the words meant nothing.

When he looked up again, Rodney was gone, and the people next to him were laughing, voices rising and mingling with the sound of the waves coming through the open windows.

Standing, John tucked the pad under one arm and picked up the tray.   He scraped the remainder of the eggs into the compost bin, then placed it carefully, as he did every morning, on top of the other trays waiting to be scrubbed clean.

**Author's Note:**

> First published August 2005.


End file.
